


What Is And What Should Never Be

by Melody_Of_The_River



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Oneiric Story, Surrealism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-17 19:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17566418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melody_Of_The_River/pseuds/Melody_Of_The_River
Summary: True, or false.Real, or not real.What is reality if not a figment of our imagination?





	1. What Should Never Be

**Author's Note:**

> Work title and concept comes from the Led Zeppelin song [What Is And What Should Never Be](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrqMdja4eYs). 
> 
> Thanks to [@mnad96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnad96/profile) for beta-ing!
> 
> This work has been written as part of a prompt challenge that [@crownlessk_ing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownlessk_ing/pseuds/crownlessk_ing) gave me.
> 
> Now with a FANTASTIC reading by [project-zorthania](https://project-zorthania.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, which can you can listen to [here](https://soundcloud.com/user-900569994/what-is-and-what-should-never-be-final)! 
> 
> Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoy! Thanks for reading! :)

His father had always told him not to drag mud inside the house.

“It’s too much of a hassle to clean, Erwin,” he had scolded lightly, “Please take your shoes off if you’re ever coming straight from the playground.”

He had nodded and apologized, like the good son he was; Erwin had never been one to give his parents too much trouble. But on this particular summer evening, Erwin had not remembered his father’s words until it was too late. His sweatshirt was sticky with sweat, and the sweltering heat of mid-May clung to him like gauze clinging to an infected wound. He shook his head to get the hair out of his eyes, the sweat dripping from it onto the clean mahogany floors – his hands too occupied with opening the screen door to the house and carrying his sports backpack over his shoulder. The doormat beneath him let out a loud squelch as soon he stepped on it – the mud that he had tracked in already soaking into its thick coir dreads.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, stepping back a little, and removing his shoes. Even his socks were drenched. He _stank_ all over. Father would be upset if he found out he had not heeded his advice yet again. So, slipping off his shoes and his socks, he held them in one hand, while picking up the doormat in the other, deciding he would scrub it clean himself before his father came home.

He had been too presumptuous though, because as soon as he stepped fully inside his childhood home, he heard the soft sound of music emanating from his father’s study on the right. The door was slightly ajar, and Erwin’s father sat on his desk, back towards Erwin. A somber, psychedelic tune echoed around his walls – one that Erwin could not recognize but that sounded suspiciously like the very rock songs his father claimed he hated. Erwin made a mental note to tease him about this at dinner, but for the time being, he tiptoed up the stairs to his room, trying to avoid the wrath he was sure he would be inviting if he lingered there for too long.

Praying the floorboards would not creak under his weight, he made it upstairs, and set his shoes on the rack outside the door of his room. Their turn would come later, for right now he had bigger problems – cleaning that doormat before his father realized its absence. He turned the doorknob, and stepped inside his room.

 

The smell of sick was what hit him first. And then, the overwhelming despair. The two mingled with each other in his nostrils, wafted around him like a dead lingering scent, its tendrils coiling around his little body, sending shivers down his spine. Somewhere in the room, a beep went off.

The mahogany floors of his room – the room he had spent all his life in – had suddenly been tiled pristine white, every inch of it cleaned meticulously until not a speck of dirt remained. The room smelled sterile – like bleach and antiseptics and very palpable misery. It was a suffocating smell, and Erwin raised his arm to his nose to shield against it. His other hand dropped the mat on the floor, the mud tainting the immaculate spotlessness of the white floors, as he ventured further inside the room.

The room was mostly empty, except for the big bed that was taking up most of the space in the center. That too, like everything else in this room, was white. The man sleeping on it was white too – white tubes coiling around him, a white hospital gown covering most of his body, and a white sheet tangled around his limbs. Erwin watched the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. In and out, in and out…

Another man was sitting beside him. Hunched down inside the chair, a defeated look on his face. A too-big-for-him black coat enveloped his shoulders. He had a pair of glasses in one hand – an open book lying in his lap – and with the other, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Erwin looked back and forth between the two men – the stark contrast of white against black. They intrigued him quite a bit, the couple. So, he stepped forward. The man did not hear him approaching the bed. But the sounds of the beeps were for some reason steadily getting louder, and with every step he took, it felt like it was coming from inside his own head.

The boy’s hand reached for the man in white. From the corner of his eye, he could see the other one’s eyes raise to meet his, widening in a gut-twisting look of surprise and horror. The man raised his arm and reached for Erwin, his mouth open in an attempt to say something to him.

_“No, don’t –”_

 

 

Erwin’s eyes opened with a start.

 

 

The first thing his mind filtered in was the lights. Blindingly bright, and pricking into his skull. He blinked a few times to clear his vision.

The second thing his mind filtered in was the noise. Ear-splittingly loud, and throbbing inside his brain. He stuck a pinky finger inside his ear to clean the wax. The sounds slowly started registering. The hum of conversation around him, the chinking of glasses in toast to the new year, the sound of guitars warming up before a performance.

He really should have gone easier on the alcohol today.

The party was at the rooftop of his office building, a yearly event that Erwin had been dreading for two weeks now. It was always the same: the noise, the partying, the binge-drinking until the early hours of the morning, and then, the week-long hangover in which his department practically shut down as all its workers went home to sleep it off. Erwin would have refused attending, if he could, but of course, he was obligated to come. And once the party started, he really was no better than the people he used to judge.

It had started with a beer, and then some wine. A waiter had served him champagne and he had gulped that down as well. A shot or two, and now Erwin felt like his brain was going to explode.

And the song certainly did not help either.

A mellow tune that had started with a jazzy intro and soft vocals, had quickly taken a U-turn into hard rock category. Erwin recognized the song – one of Led Zeppelin’s tracks – was fond of it even, but right now, it was being utterly butchered by the covers band: the out of tune vocals of its lead singer, and its guitarist’s complete ineptitude at the electric guitar.

The performance was giving him a headache, and to seek refuge from it, Erwin walked over to the farthest corner of the roof, somewhere where the noise was the quietest, and the song could almost be ignored.

It was dark already. It had been something like 7 pm when he had showed up, but now the sky had not a single fleck of light in it; the moon and the stars, too, were covered in dark clouds. Erwin wondered whether it would rain soon.

“Oi!” a voice caught his attention, “Whatcha doin’ all by yourself, there?”

Erwin’s eyes flocked over to the source of the disturbance. On the roof of the building opposite to the one he was standing on, sat a short, black-haired man; his legs dangling over the edge, and a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Just sought out some peace and quiet,” Erwin replied.

“Ah… I see,” the man said. Erwin could not help but think how precarious the position he was sitting in was, even though the man’s fingers were clutching onto one of the many metal poles that lined the edge of the roof of the opposite building.

The song was entering its guitar solo, the strumming sounded like screeches of tires on a wet road. The man’s next words got lost in it.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Erwin tried speaking louder.

The man opened his mouth again, but no sound reached Erwin yet again.

“I’m sorry, it’s too loud in here!” he shouted.

“What do you mean, ‘loud’?” the man shouted back.

“The band! It’s too damn loud. I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

“The band?” the man questioned, puzzled, “The fuck you on about, mate? What band?”

“You know…” Erwin trailed off. “ _The band.”_

 

The man’s eyebrows knitted together. Erwin looked behind himself, trying to prove his point to him, but when he looked back the scene had changed completely. There were no more blinding lights, and no more torturous music. The roof was empty, not even the traces – red plastic cups, empty beer bottles, burnt out bulbs – of a party that had been here a few moments ago. Only bird droppings and a lonely, stray cat looking for scraps.

The sky had changed too. It was no longer the almost-midnight it had just been. Now it was more like – twilight? The time when worlds blurred, realms collided, and one might encounter something… not human.

Erwin looked back at the raven-haired man, the absence of the darkness that had waded around them facilitating his vision. He could see the man clearer now. His appearance was black from head to toe. His gray eyes peered from behind badly cut bangs, and there was a black jacket around his shoulders that was way too big for him. His appearance reminded Erwin of someone – someone he was fond of, for sure. Someone he cared about. But he could not put his finger on it.

The two stared at each other for a long time, and in that time, the man did not once touch the cigarette his teeth held.

“You don’t smoke?” Erwin asked finally.

The man raised his eyebrows at him, amused. He pulled out the cylindrical coil from his lips, and gestured at it. “What, this?” he said, tone mocking, “I keep this for the look.”

“Really?” Erwin asked, incredulous.

“No, dumbass, what the fuck? I don’t have a lighter.”

“Ah… that makes more sense,” he replied, “I think I might have one though…” Erwin rummaged around in the pockets of his trench coat. His fingers found the small metallic lighter and pulled it out. “Can you catch it?” he asked.

“Yeah. I think so. The distance is not that much.”

“Alright, then. Heads up.” Erwin aimed towards the man and threw it into the air. The man lunged forward, one hand still clutching the pole, and caught it before it hit the side of the wall.

“Good throw,” he complimented, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The man flicked it open, slipping the cigarette back between his teeth, and held the flame to it until it caught fire. He took a drag from it, and sighed. “You didn’t seem like the smoker type to me, blondie,” he said, his words muffled around the cigarette in his mouth.

“I’m not, I –” Erwin started, then realized, “I think I’m keeping it for someone.”

“Hm. Well, this is a good one,” the man commented, “I have one just like it, at home." He twirled the lighter around between his fingers. "Hm," he snorted, "Now would you look at that... It's even got the same initials as me. _L.A_."

"That's probably just the name of the city."

"True, true..."

“Why didn’t you bring yours with you?” Erwin asked.

“Forgot,” the man answered simply.

There was silence between them for a moment, the only sounds being of the man’s smoky exhales.

“May I ask your name?” Erwin asked then.

The man looked him over apprehensively. “Why?”

“Well, we’re making conversation, are we not? I’d like to refer to you by a name, if you don’t mind.”

The man scoffed. “Well, aren’t you fancy?” he said, breathing in. “It’s Levi.”

Erwin let the name sit in the air between them for a while before replying. “Nice to meet you, then, Levi. I’m Erwin.”

“Pleasure,” he stated simply.

The twilight was slowly inching towards full night. The street lamps were all lighting up around them. Cars passed on the road below them, and as they did, the glow from the headlights danced reflections on Levi’s face. And all of a sudden, Erwin felt the scene change again. He saw refrigerator lights dance on Levi’s rare, smiling face as he twirled him around in the kitchen in the middle of the night – rock songs playing in the background. The man chuckled against him, his laughter infectious, curling around Erwin’s heart like a protective sheath. “ _Stop it, Erwin_ ,” he said, hitting him lightly on the shoulder, though his words lacked the conviction. Erwin took his hand in his and waltzed around the tiny room, his back sometimes bumping painfully into marble counters or metal utensil handles. And then, he saw ballroom lights dance around the man’s face, who was now his husband, as he looked down nervously at their feet. “ _I’ve always had two left feet, Erwin, you know this_ ,” he complained. “ _Shh, darling, it’s alright. We’ve got this_ ,” Erwin reassured him. He saw the first light of dawn make crisscross patterns on his cheeks as it filtered in through the blinds on the day after their wedding. “ _Five more minutes_ ,” he groaned. Erwin laughed, kissed the top of his head, and brought him some tea in bed exactly five minutes later. He saw the ambulance lights paint his face in red and blue and worry, as the stretcher rolled away – and all that from one stupid car passing by.

“This doesn’t feel like I’m meeting you for the first time, Levi,” Erwin said.

“What does it feel like, then?”

Erwin paused, considering the question. “Like… A premonition. But in the wrong order.”

Levi scoffed, coughing out smoke with it. “So, like remembering, then?” he mocked.

Erwin chuckled. “I knew you’d make it sound like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m spewing bullshit.”

“Well, I didn’t have to make it sound like that.” Levi retorts, “You are. Spewing bullshit.”

Erwin laughed again, and the man rolled his eyes. “We’ve never met before… Erwin,” Erwin did not miss the pause in the man’s tone as he spoke his name for the first time in the conversation, as if he too was weighing it out on his tongue. “I would have remembered,” he continued.

“Then, tell me, Levi,” Erwin began, “why did you come here today? On this roof?”

“I come here every day,” he countered.

“Yes,” Erwin answered, “But do you remember actually deciding that you’d come to this building, and remember walking up those stairs, and sitting down here?”

The man paused. “Yes, of course I do.”

Erwin smirked.

“You’re lying. I can hear it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I do,” Erwin said, “You know I do.”

“What does it even matter?” Levi asked, “Why do you care? Maybe I was just flat-out drunk and blacked out or something.”

“Well, do you feel drunk?” Erwin retorted.

“Maybe I do.”

Levi’s gaze met his. And in the crow’s feet that decorated the corner of his eyes, Erwin saw another man – so much like this Levi, but also not. “ _You have a terrible, poker face, you know_ ,” Erwin told him. And the Levi in his head rolled his eyes and grinned. “ _Well, you’re just a crook so you know these things_ ,” he said.

Erwin looked back at the Levi sitting on the edge of the building and passed him a knowing smile, that made Levi roll his eyes and look away.

“Talk about something else,” he said.

“Okay… alright…” Erwin considered, “Give me your number.”

The man snorts, “Yeah, right.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“I can tell that you are, I’m _very_ beautiful.”

“Leviii…” Erwin reasoned.

“ _Erwiiin…”_

They met each other’s eyes again, a ‘ _really?_ ’ look on Levi’s face. And Erwin heard the same whine that the man had uttered, in another context entirely. An “ _Erwiiin…”_ on the man’s lips with their legs tangled on the mattress, and Levi’s form moving above him.

A blush crept up Erwin’s neck. Levi flinched as if he too had seen the memory – or the premonition or whatever it was.

“On one condition, then,” Levi began, “You have to come to this side.”

“I could do that. I’d be up there in…” Erwin considered it for a moment, “ten, maybe fifteen, minutes?”

“No,” Levi said, “Jump.”

“Excuse me?” Erwin’s eyebrows shot up his face.

“You heard me. Jump.”

“Levi, I can’t –”

“Why not? It’s not that far away. You could make it, if you put your back into it. Unless, of course, you don’t want my number that badly…” Levi cocked an eyebrow at him.

 Erwin chuckled. “You’re really the Devil, you know that?” he said.

Levi smirked. “I do. And I don’t want no dead men getting my number,” he joked, “Prove to me that you’re alive.”

Levi’s metallic gray eyes – Erwin could not see them from this far, but he knew their color almost instinctively – held a challenge, a challenge Erwin could not, _would not_ , back down from. He could die, yes, that was a very real possibility. But he could also live. And what awaited him on the other end was far more valuable. And honestly, some days you just gotta say fuck it, jump off the roof, and _hope_ you make it to the next building.

And that was exactly what Erwin was going to do.

He took off his trench coat – Levi whistled seductively – and folded it neatly on the edge of the roof.

“Get back a little,” Erwin warned. Levi stood up from the edge and took a few steps backward. Erwin took in a deep breath, calming his nerves and then ran headfirst towards the building and _leaped_.

The few seconds he spent in the air were exhilarating and terrifying. Maybe he miscalculated his speed, maybe the trajectory was off, maybe the distance was longer than he had assumed, maybe he didn’t factor in his weight, maybe, maybe, _maybe_ – 

A strong, muscled arm grabbed Erwin’s before his body hit the side of the other building, and for a moment Erwin thought he saw black feathers extend from Levi’s shoulders like an angel looming above him. The image was gone as soon as it was conjured up, dissolving into more memories – premonitions, of a future – past – he thought he shared with this man.

Erwin grabbed onto the edge and pulled himself over it with all the strength his upper arms could muster. Levi let go of his arm once he was safely over the edge, panting and gasping, filling his lungs with the high of oxygen.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, now?” Levi smiled at him.

“Easy for you to say,” Erwin replied, every word punctuated with a pant.

“Well, look on the bright side,” Levi said.

The man chuckled, “So, can I have your number now?”

“Eh….”

“No. Don’t tell me you’re breaking the deal.”

“Calm your tits, blondie. Nothing like that. I’ll do you one better,” he said, “How about we go to dinner?”

“Right now?”

“Yup. There’s a nice restaurant on the first floor of this building.”

Erwin considered it for a second before replying, “Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Great. Now get off your ass.”

Erwin laughed as he took Levi’s extended arm for support, hoisting himself up and dusting off the dirt from his clothes. He looked back towards the building he had just leapt off of, the arms of the trench coat he had folded flapping around in the wind. A voice whispered sweetly into his ear, and he was faintly aware that it was Levi’s – but not _this_ Levi’s. “ _Erwin_ ,” it cooed, “ _Wake up.”_

The world shifted, and he was eleven years old again. Seeing that raven-haired man with his head on the other man’s chest, his ear to his heart, and his eyes looking into the other’s closed ones. “ _Erwiiin…”_ it whispered, “ _Erwiiin… Erwiiin…”_ Always Erwin.

“Erwin!” the _real_ man behind him shouted, pulling the man back from his daze. Erwin whipped his head around to see him. He was already standing at the door leading downstairs. “You’re not chickening out now, are you, blondie?”

Erwin chuckled, putting away the image of black hair against pristine white from his mind.

“Never,” he replied, and followed him, ignoring the quiet beep that trailed his answer.

 

 


	2. What Is

_When he looked up, Levi saw a boy standing near Erwin’s bedside table. His head was an unruly mess of cropped-short blond hair, sticking untidily out of place, and he wore worn-out jeans and a mud-stained sweatshirt with the number ‘13’ printed on it. He was quite young; Levi didn’t think he could be any more than ten, maybe eleven years old. His eyes were fixed on Erwin’s sleeping form. The boy raised his arm, reaching for Erwin, as if trying to remove the cannula from the vein in his left hand. At once, Levi stood up, dropping the pair of glasses his hand was holding, and moved to stop the boy –_

_“No, don’t –”_

 

 

A jolt of the head woke Levi up, his lips almost forming around Erwin’s name in his sleep. Had he been calling it too loud? Because the beeping of the monitor had become faster, and Levi got up from his chair and scurried to Erwin’s side to see if he was alright. His pulse had gotten quicker and his breathing was erratic, unsteady.

“Shh…” Levi calmed him, “Shh… It’s alright. It’s alright, Erwin. I’m sorry I dozed off.”

The doctors had told him it was of no use talking to the man; Erwin’s cognitive functions were not working – or so the MRI had informed them – and he probably could not hear Levi, no matter what he said. But Levi, _being Levi_ , had chosen to ignore them all – even the sound, well-meaning advice of Hange – because he could see it for himself. How the slightest hitch in the man’s heartbeat could be brought back to normal by a calm word or two from him.

Fuck the doctors, what did they know? Levi knew his husband.

Reassured by the slowly steadying pace of the beeps of Erwin’s monitor, Levi turned his back to the sleeping man and laid back down in his chair. He picked up the book and the glasses that had fallen when he had gotten up so quickly, and discovered that there was a crack in one of the mirrors of his glasses.

“Shit,” he cursed, “I guess this is what I get for sleeping on the job, huh, Erwin?”

The silence was his only answer. But Levi continued.

“This is a terrible read, Erwin, I’m not gonna lie,” he gestured towards the book on his lap: Lord of the Flies by William Golding. “Your father said it was one of your favorites growing up,” Levi explained, “Hmph. You were a fucked-up kid, Erwin,” Levi scoffed, “Why couldn’t you just like the normal shit like the rest of us? I wouldn’t be surprised if you were half-dead from boredom just by listening to me read you this crap. The boys are all gonna kill each other in the end, aren’t they? Tch. What’s even the point…

“You’ve always been into this ‘intellectual’ crap, haven’t you? Remember that line you tried to pick me up with? Something about ‘premonitions’ or some shit. God, you were so –” Levi caught himself, “ _are_ so full of yourself.”

Erwin’s breathing did not change.

“Fuck,” Levi cursed exasperatedly, “I know I’m not supposed to but – I can’t have this conversation without a smoke.”

Levi got up, shutting the book and placing it and his cracked pair of glasses on the table with the pitcher of water on it. He bent down and removed his black satchel from beneath Erwin’s bed, and rummaged through it before finding a pack of cigarettes, and –

“Shit. I forgot my lighter,” he said.

Levi settled back into the chair and removed one cylindrical paper coil from the box, and held it between his lips. A cigarette would take the edge off, he knew that, but he guessed it was probably for the best that he didn’t have his lighter with him.

“This was on that roof, right? Wasn’t this how we first met? You were shouting, I remember, the band was too loud…” Levi paused, “Or was there a band? Damn it, I’m getting too old to remember these things. You’d probably know, wouldn’t you? I should write it down so I can remember to ask you when you…” Levi let out a cold exhale, “ _wake up_.”

“Seems like such a long time ago now, doesn’t it? What was it, like, eleven years ago or something? Yeah… I think so. Wait,” he paused, second-guessing himself, “let me count. We met in 2006…? Married, 2008… I think it’s thirteen, then. Yeah, thirteen.”

“You’ve made me an old man, Erwin Smith,” Levi chuckled.

The commotion of the medical staff outside the doors of the hospital room, the slow drip-drip of the intravenous fluid pumping into Erwin’s arm, and the beeps of the monitor were the only sounds that answered him.

“So,” he resumed, “as I was saying. On the roof. You asked me for my phone number, remember? Fucking dork. I suppose I haven’t told you this before but I was kind of… _in and out_ of living situations, then.”

“Alright, fine, I was homeless. Didn’t have a landline. I bought a flip-phone just for you, you know,” he snorted.

“You know, Erwin,” he said, “I _almost_ had a mind to tell you to jump onto my building that day, if you wanted my number that badly. Couldn’t tell your posh fucking ass I didn’t have one, so I thought I should indulge you a bit. Challenge you. But the look on your face, though!” Levi smiled, “You actually looked so scared that I would tell you that! To jump. God… you’re such a fucking pussy.”

Levi removed the cigarette from his mouth, and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher.He took a sip, and continued.

“I can’t believe I let a pussy like you fuck _me_ on the _first_ date. I _never_ do that,” the man grinned, “No. I can’t believe I let a pussy like you _marry_ me, for that matter. What the fuck was I thinking! You’re the last type of person I would ever go for. I’m way out of your league, for one. Got a low tolerance for pseudo-intellectual bullshit too. And goddamn, what the fuck are those eyebrows you’ve got? They’re like caterpillars resting on your forehead…”

“Such a pussy, you were,” he said, “ _Are_.” Levi’s voice started breaking; he took another sip from his glass to cover it up, “The only pussy I’d ever make an exception for.”

Levi got up from the chair, moving towards the window. It was jammed shut, and Levi had to pull a muscle to get it to open up. He discarded the cigarette in the bushes outside, not wanting to look at it anymore. He breathed in the cold night air from the outside, letting it clean his lungs of the toxins – of the anguish, of the fear, and of the uncertainty of whether Erwin would wake up.

“Erwin,” he pleaded to the night, “ _Erwiiin…”_ he whined _. “_ Wake up,” he cried, “Please wake up.”

Levi breathed in deep, closed the window, and rejoined the sleeping man. He skidded his chair close to his bed and laid his head on Erwin’s chest. His fingers moved to the stump of his amputated right arm – the one that had gotten stuck under all the car wreckage – and stroked the bandages that covered it. The blood seeped through the gauze like sweat through a t-shirt on a mid-summer’s day.

“Fuck you, Erwin,” Levi murmured into his chest, “If this was 2006, and you were in a coma, I would have just sent flowers and then never come back here. I don’t have the patience for this shit. I really don’t, you know this.” Levi sighed, “Fuck you, Erwin. For turning me into this.”

“For making me…” his voice broke into a sob, “ _care.”_

 

Erwin’s eyes did not show even the slightest hint of motion behind them. Levi’s fingers traveled up his face to tuck a stray strand of golden hair from his eyes and behind his ear. He moved his thumb downwards, over the man’s eyebrows and on his peacefully closed eyelids.

Levi sighed.

“I wonder what you’re dreaming about,” he said.


End file.
